'how can these people be so very indecent?' They
thought it, no doubt, equally extraordinary that she should have her
face uncovered, while she so carefully concealed her legs; for they
were really all modest peasantry, going from the village to bathe in
the holy stream.[2]

Here there are some very pretty temples, built for the most part to
the memory of widows who have burned themselves with the remains of
their husbands, and upon the very spot where they committed
themselves to the flames. There was one which had been recently
raised over the ashes of one of the most extraordinary old ladies
that I have ever seen, who burned herself in my presence in 1829. I
prohibited the building of any temple upon the spot, but my successor
in the civil charge of the district, Major Low, was never, I believe,
made acquainted with the prohibition nor with the progress of the
work; which therefore went on to completion in my absence. As suttees
are now prohibited in our dominions[3] and cannot be often seen or
described by Europeans, I shall here relate the circumstances of this
as they were recorded by me at the time, and the reader may rely upon
the truth of the whole tale.

On the 29th November, 1829, this old woman, then about sixty-five
years of age, here mixed her ashes with those of her husband, who had
been burned alone four days before. On receiving civil charge of the
district (Jubbulpore) in March, 1828, I issued a proclamation
prohibiting any one from aiding or assisting in suttee, and
distinctly stating that to bring one ounce of wood for the purpose
would be considered as so doing. If the woman burned herself with the
body of her husband, any one who brought wood for the purpose of
burning him would become liable to punishment; consequently, the body
of the husband must be first consumed, and the widow must bring a
fresh supply for herself. On Tuesday, 24th November, 1829, I had an
application from the heads of the most respectable and most extensive
family of Brahmans in the district to suffer this old woman to burn
herself with the remains of her husband, Ummed Singh Upadhya, who had
that morning died upon the banks of the Nerbudda.[4] I threatened to
enforce my order, and punish severely any man who assisted; and
placed a police guard for the purpose of seeing that no one did so.
She remained sitting by the edge of the water without eating or
drinking. The next day the body of her husband was burned to ashes in
a